Welcome to my blog which would be
churlish not to acknowledge the sun for shining, the clouds for lifting and the
jet stream for shifting north. Long may this continue?
Near the
beginning of this novel/blog, I introduced an alter ego called Jack Heston who
was, for want of a better word, American in character. (This is because being British
and being super positive just don’t seem to go well together.) His job was to
demand action and to create results. Looking back over the episodes, one would
see that Jack hasn’t had much of a say. Probably this is because I’d only dig
him out when I was quite desperate with myself. Mostly I’ve managed to muddle
on without too much desperation though this period, as I indicated at the end
of last week’s entry, has now come to an end. What I have realized now,
however, is that it is too late to indulge in an occasional alter ego and that
Jack and John must become one if the goal is to be accomplished.
Surprisingly, I did
pick ten useful affirmations and turn them into primaries. When I saw that the
first one I had chosen was, ‘I love to work’, my initial reaction was to
consider rearranging the list because I couldn’t recall choosing ‘I love to
work’ to be on it. As soon as I spoke it out, the resistances began. It seemed
impossible that I could straight-faced say ‘I love to work’ when it has been a
constant mantra of mine, that work is what slaves do.
The exercise
takes persistence, so I persisted. For some twenty minutes I was stuck. Then my
mind came up with a twist. Instead of conceptualising work as an effort you
have to make when you don’t really want to, my mind decided to think of ‘I love
to work’ as I love to function properly. In other words I don’t want to be
broken, I want to work. Suddenly the primary was created. ‘I love to work’
became true.
Now, one might
think that changing the meaning of the words in your mind is not the same as
creating the primary you started off working with. In this case, there are two
reasons why this is not a form of avoidance. First; the book I took the words
from didn’t define ‘work’. Secondly; someone who knows me said ‘but you do work
a lot, you’re always doing something.’ Which is more or less true? It is ‘going
to work’ I don’t like. Thirdly; after creating the primary, I worked bloody
hard (for me) during a lot of the rest of the week and even made myself do 95%
of the things I was tempted to procrastinate over.
The ten
primaries included the one above, the four I mentioned last week and four
others; viz
The quality of
my work increases every day,
I am receiving
right now.
My work is
satisfying to me.
Any task that
there is to do is worthy of my full attention.
These I swept
through without initial resistance although looking at them now, I’m inclined
to think that the quality of my work increased for one day then slipped back to
seeming untrue. The same may apply to the satisfaction. The last one hasn’t
been so much an affirmation as a reminder. An eleventh primary which I rejected
because it just wasn’t me was this one: I
am willing to know what I want; I am willing to ask for it; and I am willing to
receive more than I ask for’. On Friday, however, I was worrying about money
for my event and I noticed that on one of my many lists was the instruction to
myself; Write begging letters. So far, I have backed off writing to people
asking for money because it feels tacky but I’ve reached a point where I can’t
afford to be proud and can’t rely on wishful thinking either. This week,
therefore, I will take this eleventh commandment and make it true.
---
I’ve been away
for the weekend – hence an early Monday morning madly trying to find my 1,000
words for this. Saturday was the first sunny day of the year and it happened to
be my brother’s fortieth wedding anniversary. He has had, maybe still has,
cancer. Because of recent experiences of turning up to see dying people too
late, my children have become a little paranoid about not visiting the sick in
time to say (mentally) their goodbyes and, in the Indian sense of things, to
have a final darshan (seeing). I had been disinclined to go myself but on the
promptings of my youngest, I did so.
Being with two
sisters and a brother, none of whom I’ve been particularly close to in my life,
is quite a strange experience when we are all in our sixties. Three of us are
grandparents and my brother would love to be. I like my kids to know their kids
although when I’m gone I don’t suppose they’ll meet much. My brother is clearly
not the man he was at this point. It reminded me that when we were kids, he
used to beat me at games and outplay me at cricket till one day it dawned me
that I’d reached a point where I could beat him. However, rather than this be
satisfying, I felt mortified. Throughout our lives, my brother has done the
sensible thing and I’ve done the opposite. I’ve never known what he felt about
me but now whenever I look towards him I see that he is gazing fondly at me and
I look away without catching his eye because I don’t know how to respond.
----
Yesterday I went
with my youngest son to watch the test cricket in London between England and South
Africa. It was the fourth day of the
match. Last time I saw a test match in England was at the same ground against
the same country in 1965. When you’ve paid £70, as we did yesterday, you want
to see the best. And we did. Hashim Amla of South Africa scored over 300 runs
and Kallis, one of the best players ever, scored 182. South Africa finished on
637 for 2 and then declared. Two hours later, England was on 100 for 4 and was
all but beaten. My son and I got to see the great Kevin Peterson bat. In fact
he didn’t do very well but I felt chuffed that I’d seen him live. Last year,
again because of my youngest I saw Federer play tennis. I’ve been racking my
brains but can’t think of any other sportsmen that I now feel the need to see.
(Sorry Olympics but you just don’t float my boat.)
---
I arrived back home
from London at about one in the morning. It is a three hour journey so I
planned a halfway cup of tea break at a roadside garage. But no. The cafes shut
at 9.30pm. ‘Tiredness kills,’ say the signs above the motorway, ‘take a break’.
At this time of
year, the traffic usually forms a 15 mile jam of west country bound tourists
just by Stonehenge where the road becomes single carriageway. At midnight
however, the henge was quiet and a giant new moon hung over it casually. Quite
awesome, even at 70 mph.
When I got home
I was knackered but I was aware that my blog was unwritten and the challenge I
had set myself to produce it on Mondays was in danger of being failed.
So I wrote the
first sentence and ended up here. Maybe I do love to work.
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